Success?

Handing over to Les at the second change-over in this
morning's Club relay
[Photo courtesy of Jenny Barker]

It's a bit sad when you classify a race as a success because you didn't get injured, but that's how I feel about this morning's 5km leg in the Trotters annual Tag Team Time Trial.  Somehow I didn't record my time on my Garmin, but estimate it was about 21:00.  I could feel my right hamstring tugging a bit after 2km so backed off a little, but managed to maintain a good pace.  It wasn't a stellar performance because two runners I might hope to beat on a good day, Graham and Damo, both started around me and ran a little faster.  However, given my body hasn't fully recovered from last Sunday's trail marathon, I'm pretty happy.

It didn't look so rosy when I started my warm-up soon after 5am in the dark and light rain.  The first few kilometres were slow and hard work, and it was hard to believe that yesterday's easy 6.5km jog had finished with optimism that I would be moving freely today.  However, I stuck to my plan of running about 10km before the relay leg, and by the end of that time was happier with my flexibility and speed.

After the relay leg, I jogged 3km back home, and although my legs were tired, I don't feel like I have done any damage.

Deep Space Mountain Marathon

Plenty of kangaroos in Orroral Valley

My 5km jog on Saturday morning didn't fill me with confidence.  It wasn't hard, but I wasn't cruising as easily as I would have hoped the day before a big race.  It was humid, and I always think that has an enervating effect, but nevertheless, it made me wonder how I was going to manage the 42km Deep Space Mountain Marathon the next day.  Have faith in your preparation, I told myself!

I drove down to Canberra on Saturday afternoon and stayed with relatives on Saturday night, sneaking out at 5:30am for the one hour drive to the Orroral Valley where the race started from the site of a dismantled space tracking station.  I love the mountain country south from Canberra and enjoyed the unhurried drive on a beautiful cool Sunday morning.  Four years ago, I had completed my 660km hike along the Australian Alps Walking Track at Namadgi, just south of Canberra, and the race would be along a small section of the same track.

Early creek crossing

There wasn't much going on when I arrived at the start location apart from hundreds of kangaroos grazing nearby.  I walked and jogged a little to loosen up then went to the start line for the race briefing by the organiser, John Harding.  He was a good marathon runner, and I ran second to him (2:32:13) in the one of the earliest Canberra marathons (1977), nearly 40 years ago.  We've both changed a bit!

Cruising?

I knew the race would be low-key, but the field was much smaller than I anticipated, with just 20 runners.  The later events - Half Marathon, 10km and 5km - had larger numbers.  That didn't bother me much and I quickly moved to the back of the field as we set off on the short (and only) stretch of sealed road up a gradual hill.  I'm learning to settle into a rhythm early in a race without worrying about what everybody else is doing.  With age, it is easy to get into oxygen debt quickly if you go out too hard.  I think it probably has something to do with the cardio-vascular system starting more slowly.

Beautiful sub-alpine scenery

The course was a double out-and-back to the site of the old Honeysuckle Creek Space Tracking Station (hence the race name), climbing over the shoulder of Mount Tennent, along a fire-trail that had some very steep ascents and descents, and undulated the rest of the way.  My plan was to run as many of the hills as I could on the first lap and then try and run the same hills on the second lap.  I had confidence that my comparative advantage would be up the hills and that's the way it worked out.  By the time I reached the highest point on the way out at 7.5km, I had moved into the front half of the field.  However, I didn't make up much ground on the descents, which were positively scary and dangerous in a few places.  Loose fine gravel and exceptional steepness had me fearing my feet would skid out from under me at any moment and I took very short steps, just hoping to stay upright.

I was tired at the half-way point, reached in just over two hours and surprised to learn I was now seventh, though with three or four more runners within a kilometre behind me.  I told myself that if I could run up all the hills on the second lap, nobody would catch me and I might even catch some of the runners up ahead.  At the turn on the second lap (3/4 mark of the race), though very tired, I was indeed closer to the runners in front and further clear of those behind.  I broke my rule about running up all of the hills with about 8km to go, but my legs were almost non-functional.  Neverthess, I moved into fifth at this stage and was now less than 200 metres behind two other runners.

Running in to the finish

Unfortunately, this was the highest elevation point and there followed the 4km of downhill, some of it steep and some very steep, and the two runners got away from me.  When I emerged from the forest, with 2km to go, they were both still in sight, and I managed to close to about 100m of fourth place by the finish.  My legs were totally hammered by the end, and my chronic right heel injury was sore, but I was happy with my run, finishing in 4:08 with 42.3km on my Garmin.  Given the course topography, I don't think I could have done much better, and I thoroughly enjoyed the challenges of the climbs and the beautiful alpine and sub-alpine forest running.  There were times on the run, even when exhausted, when I thought life couldn't get much better for a near-65 year old.

For today, I just walked 5km, and though my right heel was a bit sore and my legs still stiff and tired, there didn't seem to be any new injuries.

Changing shoes

I usually rotate my running shoes
on a regular basis

One of the ways I have managed my chronically injured heel as I have sought to get running again has been by trying to manage my footwear.

For the past twenty years I have primarily used Nike Pegasus shoes and before that various other Nike shoes, a favourite being the Nike Elite.  I'm not dogmatic about using Nike's, and have occasionally used other brands for various reasons, including New Balance and Brooks shoes for years when they sponsored me in the early 1980s.

One reason Nike shoes has found favour with me is because they have tended to have higher heels with a larger drop between the heel and forefoot.  This decreases the range of Achilles tendon movement and I have always had problems with my Achilles (three operations on the left and one on the right).

However, even wearing the Nikes, my right heel was exceptionally painful a year or so ago, and not just because of Achilles tendonitis.  It was also highly sensitive to touch, often with searing hot pain on the surface of the back of the heel, even when just lying in bed, and there was a dull deep pain under the heel.

I have got back to running, despite medical advice that the heel was just worn out, by trying to treat all three problems after initially having nearly six months off running in the hope rest would fix it.  I'm sure the rest did help, but the methods below also made a big difference when I resumed trying to run.

The Nike Elite was my favourite training shoe for many years

Firstly, I decided to raise the heel even further, and after experimenting with various brands of heel raises found some hard 6mm raises that self-glue onto the heel of the shoe under the insole.  This means that my heel drop has gone from the standard Nike Pegasus drop of 12mm to 18mm, not ideal because it places extra strain on the tendon under the foot, risking plantar fasciitis, but workable for me.

Secondly, I decided I needed to reduce pressure on the heel from the shoe and increased my shoes size by a half and tried some shoes that gripped differently on the heel.  After research I found the New Balance 880v4 had the same heel drop as the Nike Pegasus (12mm) and I tried running in them for a change.  I also tied the shoe on my right foot exceptionally loosely (the usual test being the ability to put two fingers between the shoe and my heel) and got in the habit of smearing vaseline on the back of the heel to reduce friction.  It felt strange at first and my foot has come out of the shoe while running on a couple of occasions, not to mention more debris finding its way into the shoe during trail runs, but it's manageable.

Thirdly, I rested the underneath of the heel, which felt deeply bruised, by modifying my running style to favour the heel and try to avoid unnecessary pounding, particularly down hills.

Over time, the heel pain has generally diminished, though always there.  To reduce the chances of recurrence, I have also bought some larger Nike Pegasus shoes and now alternate so the shoe grip pressure changes regularly.

My latest heel pain setback occurred wearing the New Balance, so I am wearing the Nike more often, though still changing every couple of days.  This morning, after four or five days of New Balance, I switched to the Nikes for my short 6.5km run, and the pain was much reduced from yesterday.  Enough to convince me that I can get around the Deep Space Mountain Marathon on Sunday.  It's a two-lap course, so I can always pull out after one if the heel is bad.

The North Face 50km Ontario

Blue Mountain Resort

One reason I have confidence my difficult time on last Sunday's long run was due to dehydration is that I fairly comfortably completed a 50km trail race in Canada in July in extremely warm conditions.

It was already close to 80⁰F by the 7:00am start of The North Face Endurance 50km trail race at the Blue Mountain ski resort and the temperature was close to 100⁰F by the early afternoon when I finished.  The course seemed to endlessly go up and down the escarpment using the rough grassy ski slopes themselves, along with very technical winding single track that prevented the gain of any running momentum.  However, to be fair, there was also some easier flatter single track and roads on top of the escarpment where you could maintain a good pace.

One of the early climbs

Unlike the Australian North Face events, there was no requirement to carry specific equipment and there were drink stations every 5-8km.  I will always run without a pack if I can and decided to take the risk of travelling without carrying fluids.  However, conscious of the weather forecast, I knew it would be important to drink early and frequently during the run.  From the first drink station I was emptying multiple cups of drink as well as pouring water over my head.  For the last half of the race, the routine was to drink a cup of electrolyte, a cup of water, and a cup of Coke, as well as dousing myself and the system worked well.

After my usual slowish start, I moved steadily through the field for almost the entire race and finished strongly in 6:33:03 for 24th place out of 133 finishers.  I could only have done this through managing my hydration well in the trying conditions and need to remember that for future events.

I ran a steady 15km on the roads this morning and was disappointed to have my right heel hurting spasmodically.  The pain was generally tolerable, but it has caused me to postpone for another day the decision about whether to race a trail marathon on Sunday.

Back on track?

My UK visitor, Liam, the son of my long-time
running buddy, Keith, nears the top of the
challenging Hastings Road hill this morning

I've missed a couple of days of blogging while I had some guests staying.  On Monday, I just did some walking as intended and was pleased that my troublesome heel didn't seem to have deteriorated as a result of Sunday's long run.  I did, however, have some tightness in the lower hamstrings, the same places as cramp threatened many times on Sunday.

I warmed up for over 3km on Tuesday before joining the usual group of Trotters for a 10km run incorporating a few large hills.  The warm-up did the trick and I felt surprisingly good during the run.  My thinking is that, although the Sunday run was thoroughly exhausting, the exhaustion was primarily caused by dehydration.  The dehydration compelled me to run more slowly than would otherwise have been the case, and consequently my body wasn't as trashed as it might have been.  Once my fluid levels were back to normal I was not as tired and sore as feared.

I ran 14km this morning, still somewhat bothered by the hamstring tightness and pain in the right heel, but feel that both issues are improving.

My entry for the Bogong to Hotham 64km trail race in early January has been accepted and becomes my target race in this training cycle.  As part of my planned preparation, I would really like to run in the Deep Space Mountain Marathon, near Canberra, this coming Sunday.  However, I'm reluctant to race if I have any lingering heel or hamstring soreness because I know I will be going all out and risk more serious injury.  Fortunately, it's a low-key event that I can enter at the last minute, so really don't have to commit yet.  My rational self says that over the next four days both injuries will improve sufficiently to let me run.

Some people never learn

Berowra Creek

After little sleep (got up at 2:45am to watch the Rugby World Cup final), I left home at 5:30am and drove 45 minutes to Brooklyn station and caught a 6:34am train to Hornsby where I started running soon after 7:00am.

I was planning to run the 42km along the Great North Walk trail back to Brooklyn to check it out before the Trotters trail run I am organising along the same course in two weeks time.  The trail has a reputation for being gnarly, with lots technical single track, and I wasn't in a hurry, so hoped to finish in six to seven hours.  It took me over nine!

Going off course at one point cost me 20-30 minutes, and I was nursing my right heel on the descents, but that doesn't explain the delay.

I have a well-earned reputation for not carry fluids when I run.  I do find I don't drink nearly as much as other runners, but know that on hot and humid days even I need to do some drinking.  I thought I was addressing the need by carrying a litre of watered-down Powerade in my new Salomon pack, knowing that water was also available at several points along the track, and maybe even a store.

Berowra Water in the background

After the first hour the temperature, which had never been cool, climbed rapidly and the sun blazed down.  The technical track was wearing me out and by half-way I was feeling very tired and had been sweating profusely the whole way.  The next section included some tough climbing and my running slowed, my right hamstring threatened to cramp and I drank what fluid I had, dreaming of a store and cold Coke and Powerade when I crossed the highway at Cowan, the 30km mark.  Alas, no store; just a water bubbler on the railway station that issued a trickle.

Jerusalem Bay

At this point, I had the option of catching a train to Brooklyn and bypassing the last 13km of trail.  However, this seemed like a cop-out, so I drank as much as I could of the tepid water and took a litre with me.  I suspected there was going to be a lot of walking in the last section, and I was right.  After the descent to the scenic Jerusalem Bay, I got to the point where I couldn't really trust my legs any more on descents, nor did they seem to have the strength to climb the rugged hills.  My neck and right shoulder were aching and I was not in a good place.  I could feel I was badly dehydrated, and cursed myself for not preparing for the forecast conditions.  Based on how well I performed in a very hot 50km trail race in Canada a few months ago, I knew that if I had kept drinking today, I would have been travelling faster and with less problems.  Apart from some shuffling here and there, I pretty much walked the whole of the last 13km, and even found that very tough.

I was a happy man when I got back to my car, though unhappy that it had taken me all day.  The right heel that has been bothering me, was sore, but it always is at this distance these days.  I'm hopeful that I haven't made it worse.  Next time it's hot, more fluids!

Halloween

Some of my fellow Trotters ready for this morning's run

Terrigal Trotters held its first official Halloween Run this morning and it was a great success for the club.  A good number of members made the effort, and some made heroic efforts, to dress up for the occasion and we all had plenty of laughs.  It's rewarding to belong to a club with the critical mass of committed members sufficient to make such a social event a success.  Just another aspect of a club that plays a very large part in my life these days.  The friendly running rivalries that make runs competitive enough to be good training, and the collegial support offered by club mates have helped prolong my running career.  I have always belonged to running clubs, and most have provided a good blend of social and athletic opportunities, but Terrigal Trotters has come along at just the right time with its range of ages, genders, backgrounds, interests, abilities and inclusive culture to provide continuing motivation as my athletic capability declines.

After the run....that's me in the middle

Fortunately, the weather wasn't too warm, because running the whole 10km in my skeleton suit, including the full head covering, was a very warm affair.  I had resolved before running that I would run as fast as I felt comfortable, without worrying if I was further back in the Trotters field than usual, and that was how it worked out.  I could feel some pain in my troublesome heel, but it was hard to work out whether or not it was affecting my running efficiency, given I was running in the skeleton suit.  I've decided to go ahead with my scheduled 42km trail run tomorrow, hoping that it doesn't set me back.  If I get through it without the heel getting worse, I will gain confidence that I'm back on track.  Fingers crossed!

Surprise!

Running near Winter Park, Colorado

During a US road trip with Sharon and her children in June of this year, one of our early stops was a few days at Winter Park, a ski resort in the Rocky Mountains.  There was no snow, but it was still cold at night and there was snow visible at higher elevations.

Sharon and I did a few longish morning runs through the surrounding forests, including one memorable 20km run.  The runs from Winter Park tended to be all uphill on the way out and downhill on the way back and I tended to get ahead of Sharon on the climbs and get caught on the descents.  This particular run was following the usual pattern and I had a lead by the time we passed through the highest point and began our descent back to civilization.

The moose takes fright and runs off

Approaching the small town of Fraser on a gravel road, I thought I heard the tell-tale footsteps of Sharon coming up behind me, and after a hundred metres or so, turned to see how she was going.  It wasn't Sharon at all, but a young moose.  We both got a big fright and it scampered off into the forest while I tried to get a picture.

I had been telling my fellow travellers that it can be hard to see moose, and never expected to have one come to see me.  I suspect it was a young male checking me out, but don't really know.  It's always a thrill to encounter large animals in the wild.

For training today, I ran an easy 6.5km, still conscious of some sensitivity in my right heel, and followed that with nine holes of golf.  I will run a bit harder tomorrow.

Marking time

Some of the Thursday morning track group.

The day started with supervision (I use the term loosely) of the Thursday morning track session at Terrigal Haven in the light of a beautiful sunrise.  Pity about the flies!

I now live in Terrigal, having moved here from Copa nine months ago, so am within walking distance of the track sessions at The Haven.  Walking there and back, my right heel seemed OK, and I was hopeful my post-track session training run would show that it had improved.

Some of the new trail I explored this morning.

As a little more motivation, I decided to check out a pathway I had seen on the map but never run along in the 11 years I have lived on the Central Coast.  It wasn't very long, but could be used to add variety to other runs if it proved runnable.

The first couple of kilometres of running were much better, pain-wise, and my mood improved.  But by the last few kilometres of the 9km run, the pain was a little more obvious.  Nevertheless, it was better than yesterday, and with another couple of easy running days scheduled, I'm hopeful it will be ready for a long run on Sunday.

The new path was short and quite runnable, so will provide an alternative to running up or down the busy Terrigal Drive when I want a change.

Breaking the rules

This morning's short run circumnavigated Terrigal Lagoon

A common saying among runners is "listen to your body", but I've never been a great believer in this credo.  Whenever you are training hard and near the edge, you will frequently be tired and have chronic low-level injuries and other niggles.  If you didn't train on the days when these were issues, you would not be as fit.  It would be too easy to rationalise missing sessions.

These days, I almost always struggle for the first 4-5km of a run before I start to feel human, so it is important not to listen to my body or I would rarely run.  Instead, I always know what I'm going to be doing each day for about two weeks ahead, and more importantly, exactly what I am doing the next day when I go to bed.  If you are undecided, it's too easy to change your mind when you get up because of the weather, or someone else's training plan, or some niggle or fatigue

The entrance to Terrigal Lagoon

Having said all of that, today was a day when I broke my own rule.  I set out to run my scheduled 22km but after one kilometre my injured heel still felt warm and somewhat sensitive, though improved over yesterday, and much better than three days ago.  Even though I felt I could have run the distance without setting myself back, I began rationalising.  I have a 42km trail run planned for Sunday to scope out a new trail run for Trotters, and the three days before that were intended to be relatively easy.  If I took it easy today, I would only be missing one quality training session, and then have another three days for the heel to get even better before Sunday.  And the reality is that missing one quality session ten weeks before my target race (Bogong to Hotham) does not matter in the scheme of things.

So I cut my run to 6.5km, have felt guilty all day, and remain fearful that the injury is worse than I hope.  It's affecting my mood, but if I can get through Sunday's 42km "no pressure" trail run comfortably, optimism will return.

Hoping

I met this guy on my walk today

The heel I hurt on yesterday's long run remains painful, but has improved.  By this afternoon, I was able to walk 5km without serious discomfort.  I'm hoping that by tomorrow it will have improved sufficiently to complete my usual Tuesday morning run with a group from Trotters.  It will be sore, but if I can get through without making it worse, some optimism will return.

However, I'm also trying to mentally prepare myself for a worse case scenario.  It's always important to know what your options are, and I have played out several in my mind.  One thing I don't want to do is to soldier on despite worsening pain.  All serious runners know the temptation when fit to keep on running, regardless of an injury, for fear of losing their fitness and wasting all the time and effort they have invested to get to that stage.

Thirty or forty years ago, I would have visited a doctor to get anti-inflammatories prescribed so that I could continue to train and race.  In retrospect, I cannot remember a time when this proved to be a sustainable solution.  Either I ended up needing to have more time off running, or in the more serious cases, surgery.  These days, I don't feel any temptation to resort to anti-inflammatories.  Better not to mask the pain so that you really know the scale of the injury.  If the injury seems bad tomorrow, I will be scaling back my training.

Mixed fortunes

Good omen?

As I left my house at 5:00am in the pre-dawn gloom to start my 37km long run, I found a $50 note on the footpath.  I hoped that was a good omen, because I really wasn't looking forward to the next three plus hours.  I felt a bit tired and sore all over from yesterday's hard 10km, and had even brought along my iPod and headphones, so that I could listen to music as a distraction (something I rarely do these days).

Once I started running, I didn't feel as bad as I expected, and after the usual four to five kilometres of warming/loosening up, I settled into a reasonable pace.  The iPod took my mind off the time ahead as many of my playlist tunes are evocative of times and people I have known - a trip down memory lane.

Lake Tuggerah

After the undulating first 12km, the next 10km to The Entrance is flat, much of it along the bike path bordering Tuggerah Lake and my pace picked up to comfortably average sub-5:00/km on a superb early morning.  Even when I started hitting some more undulations after 22km, I was maintaining my pace well.  But as I climbed a gradual hill with 9km to go, I became conscious of my chronically-injured right heel becoming very tender and painful.  Within a kilometre my pace had dropped back to 5:30/km, I was favouring my right heel significantly, and I had lost the good running form I had maintained to that point.  I plodded on to the end, not enjoying it at all and hoping that my heel problem wasn't returning to dog my life as it had done up until six months ago.

The Entrance

It's now eight hours later, and the heel is still painful to walk on, though has improved somewhat.  I just have a 5km walk scheduled for tomorrow and a shorter run on Tuesday, so I'm hoping that gives it time to recover sufficiently for the 20-25km run I had planned for Wednesday.  If not, I'll have to re-evaluate my training and racing plans for the next three weeks.  Not happy!

Self-Management

The Trotters ready for Girrakool to Patonga

I like to think one reason for my last six months of almost uninterrupted running is that I have been giving myself longer to recover from hard runs and trying to mix trail running with road running. (Of course, it might all be luck!).

Last Sunday, I ran the annual Terrigal Trotters' Girrakool to Patonga 25km trail run through Brisbane Water National Park. It's a course that has everything - views, waterfalls, rock ledges, mountains, fern-filled valleys, caves, single-track and fire-trail - and is very popular with club members and me. If you are fit, it is very runnable, and in parts, exhilarating.

Usually on trail runs these days, I'm careful not to run technical track too quickly or descend too hard for fear of jarring my lower back and/or damaging my right heel, not to mention the other obvious risks such as falling or crashing into a tree. However, with some trail races planned over the next three months, I wanted to run hard, and gave myself permission to take some risks. I thoroughly enjoyed myself, particularly on the descents, where landing decisions are made in mid-air, the trees and rocks whistle by, and the adrenalin pumps. Apart from some minor missteps, I survived without incident and recorded what for me was a fast time.

Reaching the bottom of the last descent at Patonga beach.

Since Sunday, my body has been stiff and sore, particularly when rising in the morning.  My legs feel lethargic and my training times have been slow. But all of this was expected and I have been telling myself that by Saturday, when I hope to run a reasonable time in the Trotters' monthly time trial, I will have loosened sufficiently to be competitive. After this morning's 10km plod, I'm not so sure, but I need to have faith in my plan and approach.

Having run long on the trail last weekend, I intended to run long on the road this weekend to give my ankles and heel a rest. However, I have just learned that friends are planning a long trail run through Bouddi National Park, one of my favourites, on Sunday morning. It's a big temptation to join them, and I would probably survive unscathed, but I know that I would be wiser to stick with the road run and my longer term strategy.  We'll see!

Addiction

Running around 100 kilometres a week with a body that has absorbed many thousands of kilometres over the past 46 years, and knowing that it increases the chances of a future knee replacement or other terminal injury, is not rational.

I know it, yet pride myself on generally being rational and cool-headed.

The Mayo Clinic's website lists behaviours consistent with drug addiction as

• Feeling that you have to use the drug regularly
• Having intense urges for the drug
• Over time, needing more of the drug to get the same effect
• Making certain that you maintain a supply of the drug
• Spending money on the drug, even though you can't afford it
• Not meeting obligations and work responsibilities, or cutting back on social or recreational activities because of drug use
• Doing things to get the drug that you normally wouldn't do, such as stealing
• Driving or doing other risky activities when you're under the influence of the drug
• Focusing more and more time and energy on getting and using the drug
• Failing in your attempts to stop using the drug
• Experiencing withdrawal symptoms when you attempt to stop taking the drug

I can substitute "running" for "drug" (with some grammatical flexibility) in the above symptom list and many of them apply to me. I am addicted to running.

But does the running addiction matter? It may bring my running career to an earlier end. I may be getting around on a walking stick by the time grandchildren arrive. My legs may not tolerate the hiking and cycling adventures still on my bucket list. It may dominate my social life.  All of these things do matter, but others matter more.

My father is now a nursing home resident with a quality of life I have no wish to emulate. His fate has reinforced a desire to live life to the full while I have the means. I'll be 65 in six weeks and there are many ailments that could claim me in the years to come. I only have to look around my demographic.  My legs can't be the only thing wearing out.

The last six months of running has given me rewards (highs) that I thought had been consigned to history. It makes me feel alive and younger. I believe that more may be achieved with determination and good management, and I want to see how far I can go.

Tempting Fate

Waiting for the start of my comeback race in
March 2015 near St Louis, Missouri.

It has been more than fifteen months since my last blog post and for much of that time I have been unable to run.  The right heel problem referred to in my last post worsened and scans revealed significant damage. I was told that my serious running days were over (not for the first time in the last 30 years!).  The best I could reasonably hope for was to jog 5km a few times a week.

The pain was significant in multiple areas of the heel and I stopped running and started mountain biking as a means of keeping fit.  In March of this year, I resumed jogging, strongly motivated by the opportunity to run, three weeks later, a favourite event in the US for the first time since the mid-1990s. Through experimentation and experience, I have learned to manage the heel in a number of different ways.  Much to my astonishment, I have been able to run, relatively uninterrupted, for the last six months and reached a level of fitness sufficient to resurrect the faint hope of running a good marathon time.

The heel still causes me problems, along with all of the other niggles a 64 year old runner endlessly gets, but I am enjoying my running and still seeing improvement.  I have picked out a marathon in April of next year, six months away, and will now chart my progress towards that race in this blog.  To run a good time, I will have to remain relatively uninjured for the six months, an unlikely prospect.  Just restarting the blog makes me feel like I am tempting fate!

Decisions, decisions

Tree Fern Forest in the Dandenong Ranges.

I'm agonising over whether to run the Macleay River Marathon this coming Sunday.  I have the fitness to finish, but feel that my right heel may still be a little bruised from a run ten days ago.

The marathon is a long way on hard roads and if the heel becomes more tender as the race wears on, it will impact my running form and shorten my stride length.  The run will become a slow and painful journey and it will likely take three weeks of easy, or no, running for the heel to repair.  The Woodford to Glenbrook 25km trail race, which I also want to run, is in three weeks so that would be jeopardised.  These are the arguments I would make to someone in my position seeking my advice.

Sherbrooke Forest trail in the Dandenong Ranges.

On the other hand, it may be fine and my confidence about my fitness and health will be boosted if I make it through unscathed in a reasonable time.  And I have nothing else planned for the long weekend.

I have set today as "decision day" because online entries close tonight.  At the moment I'm leaning towards entering.

My training has been less intense since my last blog post, apart from a very enjoyable 20km run in the Dandenong Ranges outside of Melbourne, and I am freshening up, but the heel pain is still perceptible.

Outside of running, I have been quite busy with a trip to Melbourne for a family celebration, the opening of entries for the Great North Walk 100s (of which I am Race Director), and a significant change in my domestic arrangements.  I will have less time for blog posts in the next three months, so they will become more irregular - maybe a few per week.  However, I enjoy documenting my running life and will try and make them interesting and meaningful.

Managing the Achilles

Today's flat even road run passing through Avoca Beach
took the pressure off my painful Achilles tendon injury.

For a year now, whenever I have been able to run consistently for a few weeks, my right Achilles tendon has become painful.  Achilles injuries have been the bane of my running life.  I guess there were deficiencies in my genetic design and an addiction to distance running didn't help.

The only long-term relief I have experienced came from major surgeries in which the tendon was cleaned up, the bursa removed, a heel spur removed and a corner of my heel bone cut off.  This was done to my left heel in my thirties and my right heel in my fifties and on both occasions it took a long time to recover.  Two earlier, less radical, surgeries on the left heel only gave relief for a couple of years each time.

Today's run included this flat section
approaching McMasters Beach.

Of course, surgery is the last resort, especially if it's going to stop you running for more than a year.  To avoid surgery, I have tried just about every possible treatment  - ice packs, massage, cortisone injections, post-run cold running water, anti-inflammatories, stretching, orthotics, heel raises, shoe heel cut-outs, running on flat surfaces, avoiding hills, doughnut bandages, alternating shoes - apart from retirement from long distance running.  My conclusion is that none of these non-surgical treatments provides a permanent solution.

At best, they are delaying actions, and that's what I feel I have been doing with my current right Achilles problem.  For a while the Hoka shoes seemed to place less strain on the Achilles (but more strain on my bad right knee).  Now, even they don't seem to provide relief.  My heel became very sore on Monday's long trail run wearing the Hokas.  For today's 15km run, I changed back to my Nike shoes and stayed on the road.  The heel was sore but didn't get worse, although I was running slowly.

I really don't want to have more surgery, so I guess I'll keep trying most things that provide temporary relief, short of cortisone or anti-inflammatories.  They just mask the problem while you do more damage.

Signs are good

It was a little gloomy at Terrigal Haven this morning.

It was heart-warming at this morning's 6:00am Haven track session to have so many friends say how pleased they were for me on my return to running.

It is good to be running again, though I started my own 11km run after the track session with some apprehension.  Yesterday's heart monitor read-out after my 5km run showed a very irregular pattern for the first ten minutes, and I had felt a little uncomfortable during that time.  Today's run started with a good-sized hill, which I knew would be a good test of my heart rhythm, even if I took it slowly.  I reached the top without incident, as happened on the second long hill near the end.  Although I felt tired and unfit the whole way, it was satisfying to return to another of my regular courses.  Once home, I loaded the heart monitor data, fearing the worst, but found no evidence of any problems.

Looking north from Terrigal Haven this morning.

The next test for the day, about which I was also apprehensive, was a noon appointment with my cardiologist to check progress since the cardioversion three weeks ago.  He started with an electrocardiograph and followed it with a blood pressure test.  The former showed my heart continues to beat in sinus rhythm and the latter read 115/78.  All good!  We then had a conversation about my prognosis during which he said I could resume my normal life.  I was particularly interested in the viability of a long backcountry hiking trip I hope to make later in the year down the Appalachian Trail in the US.  He said that, subject to carrying some precautionary medication, there was no reason to cancel, though he wants to see me again before I go.

Terrigal Haven this morning.

The possibility of reversion to Atrial Flutter remains (as high as 50% according to some research), but apparently my risk factors are low.  The way forward is becoming clearer and my optimism is growing.  I will continue running, but avoid racing, and resume planning my hiking trip.  It could be a lot worse.

Looking up

Erina Valley is part of Woody's Wun.

The Terrigal Trotters Saturday morning run this week was the 14.2km "Woody's Wun".  Coincidentally, it was the last Trotters run I did while still fully functional, back in mid-December.  It was also 6km longer than my longest run since resuming training nine days ago, and incorporated some very steep and long hills.  That made me (and others) quite apprehensive about whether I should be attempting it.  On the other hand, there was a sort of appealing symmetry if I could get around the run OK.  I wouldn't be resuming where I left off, because last time I ran quite hard and well, but just completing the course without incident would be a significant step on the road back in my mind.

I managed to fall over crossing these paddocks this morning.

I was last of the hundred or so runners climbing the first rise away from the Terrigal Surf Club, but that was a good place to be, and pretty much where I stayed for the first few kilometres.  Despite constantly self-assessing my respiration and heartbeat, it was a great pleasure to be running along in the pre-dawn darkness bantering with my club-mates again.  There have been times during the last two months when it seemed possible those days were over, and probable that the hiatus would be much longer.

Woody's Wun goes right through the Erina Fair
Shopping Mall.

On each of the solid climbs in the next two kilometres, I slowed to a walk with some of my colleagues, only resuming when the gradient eased.  Normally I would never walk up a hill during a Trotters run, but my expectations have changed, at least for the time being.  They were the kind of hills that would have brought me to a staggering halt with a heart rate of 230bpm before the Cardioversion eighteen days ago, so it was encouraging to get up them comfortably.  From there, I ran the whole way, apart from climbing a few fences and one fall while crossing a paddock.  I particularly enjoyed the steady slow climb up the side of forested Kincumba Mountain along a very technical kilometre of single track and the gentle descent which followed along a beautiful fire-trail.  Magic!

The fire-trail on Kincumba Mountain.

I even caught a few people over the last half of the run, as I settled into an easy unstressed pace, but had to keep reminding myself not to get competitive.  This will be one of my challenges going forward.  Although there were still some aches and pains, particularly in the knees, I was in better shape than a few days ago, and really enjoyed the run.  May there be many more!

Imagination?

Murray River.

Most of today was spent driving the 1,000km from Melbourne back to Copa.  I was on the road by 5:00am, after a night during which I woke several times.  I suspect the real reason for the disturbed sleep was that I knew I had an early start, but each time I woke, I found myself lying there, very conscious of my heartbeat and trying to determine whether the beat was regular.

After my 5km run yesterday morning, I was checking my pulse and it seemed that there was a double beat about every 20 to 30 seconds, although it could have been my imagination.  I hadn't experienced any breathlessness or palpitations while running, but nevertheless I'm now a bit worried that the double beat, if it's real, signals the early stages of the return of my Atrial Flutter.

Bike path along the Murray.

As I drove north along the Hume Highway in pre-dawn darkness, I wondered about the wisdom of running again today.  However, after three hours of driving and feeling a little tired, I stopped in Albury and set out along a bike path by the Murray River.  It was a pleasantly cool morning and I was pleased to feel more like a runner than earlier in the week, though somewhat apprehensive.  I wasn't running hard, but was moving faster with less stiffness in the muscles and joints.  The faster speed meant my lungs were working a little harder, and I was breathing in on two steps and out on one, but still controlled.  Nevertheless, I was constantly self-assessing myself, looking for any sign that my heart was racing or my blood pressure dropping.

Billabong at the turnaround.

After about 3km of following the full and fast-flowing river, I reached a billabong and the end of the bike path and turned round.  It was nice to see the Murray River looking so healthy after a number of dry years.

Hovell Tree Park.

The path returned through the Hovell Tree Park, where I had finished my 440km three-week hike along the Hume & Hovell Track about ten months ago.  The Hovell Tree was marked, nearly 190 years ago, by one of the explorers after whom the walking track was named.  I could vividly remember finishing there at dusk, completely exhausted after compressing the planned last two days walk into one 50km day.  Despite my exhaustion on that last day, I had a great trip, and being there again made me wish it was a year ago when I was preparing for the trip, with no heart or lung problems in sight.  Just another reminder to make the most of my time.

I was again checking my pulse again after the run, and still wonder if there's an occasional double beat.  Generally, it seems regular and strong (and back under 50bpm at rest), but I still have a nagging concern.  I have an appointment with the cardiologist next week anyway, and he'll confirm one way or the other.  For the time being, I think I keep running daily.